


Devoured by Your Love

by justanothermaniac



Series: Twin Flames: It was bound to happen [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Violence, Child Abuse, Childhood, Childhood Trauma, Disturbing Themes, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, First Kiss, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, Sibling Incest, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-08-20 22:42:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20235565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanothermaniac/pseuds/justanothermaniac
Summary: Jerome can never know that it was Jeremiah who drove him this far, drove him over the edge. It doesn't matter that it wasn't intentional. He manipulated Jerome.





	Devoured by Your Love

**Author's Note:**

> We're baaack. Our boys are growing up.
> 
> Let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> And pls, I know my maze-drawing skills are non-existant but let's just pretend this looks like Jeremiah made it, okay? Okay, thx.
> 
> Enjoy, my lovelies ~
> 
> \- jam 💙

* * *

_ **Oh, can't you see?** _

_ **You belong to me** _

_ **How my poor heart aches** _

_ **With every step you take**_

* * *

By the time their eleventh birthday comes around, Jeremiah mostly succeeds in trying not to think about Cathy anymore. The scar on his hand is still very prominent but he blocks out where it came from and focuses on others, the few he has from Uncle Zack. He doesn't hurt Jeremiah often and when he does, it's mostly just to punish Jerome but the evidence is there, in light, numb patches of skin.

She sometimes finds him in his dreams though. Her light brown curls falling in her face as her sad eyes look at him, the expression weighing his chest down with guilt. _"Was it worth it?",_ she'll ask as she starts to smile, blood slowly trickling from her nose and eyes as her flesh decomposes, the once beautiful face reduced to a grotesque mask of bloody chunks and bones.

Sometimes Jerome is there too. He'll appear next to Cathy, taking her pale hand in his. The look on his face as he regards Jeremiah is unlike anything he's ever seen. His eyes are cold and his nose scrunched in digust. Jeremiah tries to reach out for him, to pull him into a hug, but Jerome bats his hands away. _"I hate you",_ he'll hiss and it's a knife in Jeremiah's chest. _"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."_

Jerome's voice gradually becomes louder and more shrill, piercing Jeremiah's eardrums while Cathy starts laughing, her skin and flesh falling off in thick patches, leaving her a bloody skeleton, boney fingers intertwined with Jerome's. Jeremiah wants to cover his ears but he's frozen in place, he wants to close his eyes but is forced to look, to listen, to feel his heart decay within his chest.

He'll wake up drenched in sweat, clutching Cayenne to his chest, the black knobs that serve as his eyes patiently looking up at him. Cayenne never judges Jeremiah for anything. He never judged him for Cathy.

Jeremiah wishes that he could say the same thing about Jerome.

Upon waking up after dreaming of her <strike>_(them)_</strike>, Jerome will wake up too, his brother's distress able to rip him from the deepest slumber. He never asks why Jeremiah woke up crying, he just holds him close and whispers sweet words in his ear, pressing gentle kisses to his nose and cheeks. Jeremiah will bite his tongue, in fear of spilling everything to his twin. A part of him wants to, longs for relief of this terrible secret.

But Jerome can never know that it was Jeremiah who drove him this far, drove him over the edge. It doesn't matter that it wasn't intentional. Jeremiah knew about his brother's overprotectiveness and he used it to his advantage.

He manipulated Jerome. That alone is unforgivable but he made Jerome _kill_ someone. Jerome killed Cathy when they were nine years old because of _Jeremiah._ If he ever finds out, Jeremiah will lose him forever, because how can you love someone who has done such a vile thing to you?

Jeremiah writes it all down in his sketchbook to get it off his chest. He's done that for years, he'll hide the journal entries by depicting them as unfinished mazes, the writing tiny enough to look like flourish. He knows <strike>_(hopes)_</strike> that Jerome doesn't snoop but if feels safer. 

_I had to do it,_ it says in one of the entries after Cathy's death. _She would've taken him from me. I had no choice._

_My Jerome, mine,_ says another.

_Stupid bitch. She thinks she's so brave because she feeds the tigers._ Jeremiah wrote that one shortly after he bumped into Cathy. It's one of the angrier ones. _She acts like she doesn't feel because she thinks Jerome will like her more. But she doesn't know that he only likes me. He LOVES me. ME, not HER. _

_Why does she have to be so pretty? _Jeremiah remembers that one vividly. He was crying while writing it, soaking the paper. _She's pretty and exciting. She's better than me. Better for Jerome. Why? Why can't I be pretty and exciting? _

_I hate her I hate her I hate her I hate her I hate her I hate her I hate her I hate her I hate her_

Jeremiah isn't proud of it, and it's probably not the best idea to keep these entries, or even write them at all. But he needs to get it out somehow. Jerome is the only person he can talk to and he must never know. 

So Jeremiah stays quiet. He thinks he probably will until the day that he dies. He'd rather live with the fact that he turned Jerome into a murderer than dive into the black void that his life would become without him.

In the end, Jeremiah will always be a coward.

* * *

Despite his inner conflict regarding Cathy, the twins are as close as they ever were. They've grown quite a bit too and sharing a bed seems more intimate now because, while they were always pressed up against each other when they were little, now they're not left with much of a choice.

Jeremiah loves it. He loves feeling Jerome's warm body pressed up against his, Jerome's tight hold around his waist, Jerome's leg draped over his. Jeremiah loves turning around in his brother's arms, burying his face in his neck and inhale the intoxicating scent of chocolate (to Jerome, Jeremiah smells like strawberries and to Jeremiah, Jerome smells like chocolate), sliding his hands under his shirt to feel the heat of his bare skin on his fingertips.

It makes him tingle all over and his stomach heats up, as does his chest. He's old enough to know what this feeling is. And when Jerome's fingers skim over the small of his back and he can feel him exhale hotly against his face, he knows that the older twin feels the same way. 

Three more years, he realizes. Only three more years.

* * *

Jeremiah is laying on his belly, drawing another maze while Jerome is reading, his head resting on Jeremiah's lower back. It's a warm midsummer day, they've been up for a few hours already. Lila is still out cold on the couch.

Jerome suddenly mumbles something and Jeremiah puts his pen down. "What?", he asks, trying to look over his shoulder at his brother but the angle is too awkward, so he crosses his arms and rests his chin on them.

"We should get a puppy", Jerome repeats and Jeremiah blinks once before huffing out a chuckle.

"Should I be worried? You're reading _Cujo",_ he teases but Jerome doesn't seem to notice. Either that or he doesn't mind.

"Cujo's actually a chill dog. He just went rabid, ain't his fault", the older twin explains, despite knowing that Jeremiah already read the book, too. "Think about it. We'd have someone to play and cuddle with."

The comment stings a little. "We have each other to play and cuddle with", Jeremiah murmurs, wincing when the weight of Jerome's head leaves his lower back.

He shrieks when he's flipped around, his twin caging him between his arms with a bright grin. Jerome absolutely _loves_ doing that. "We don't even have one yet and you're already jealous?"

Jeremiah's cheeks heat up immediately. "I'm not jealous..."

"You so are." Jerome giggles, emphasizing each word with a kiss to Jeremiah's cheeks, forehead, nose and chin. "Jealous, jealous, jealous, jealous, jealous ~"

Jeremiah tries to turn his face away and to fight off the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "Stop that!" He closes his eyes, his heartbeat doubling in speed when Jerome kisses him on the lips. He lifts his hands, gently cupping Jerome's face between them, a tingle running over his skin.

Jerome pulls away only to rest his forehead against Jeremiah's. "Jealous", he whispers again but before Jeremiah can protest, the trailer door bursts open and they hear the all too familiar sound of hungover Lila stumbling down the stairs.

Jerome closes his eyes in annoyance and Jeremiah's face falls a little. There goes their peace and quiet. They reluctantly pull away from each other, both sitting up on the grass.

Lila has slumped down in one of the chairs, cigarette already in hand. She's still wearing that sparkly green dress she wore last night and her naturally curly hair is an absolute mess. She cracks her eyes open, only seeing them now for the first time. "Mornin'", she slurs, closing her eyes again as she takes a pull from her cigarette.

"Mornin'", Jerome answers. Jeremiah doesn't say anything. He prefers not talking to Lila. "Long night, huh?"

Lila groans at that. "Don't even remember how the fuck I got home." She releases the smoke, ending up having a coughing fit. Jeremiah scrunches his nose. "Don't know how and when but I always make it home _somehow._ They're gonna put that on my fucking tombstone." 

She's obviously no longer talking to them but the comment makes Jeremiah frown as he exchanges a look with his twin. Jerome looks equally confused. "Tombstone? Whassat?"

Lila forces her eyes open again, looking involuntarily suspicious for a second before she blinks, realizing something. "Oh, right. Sometimes I forget you two don't know anythin' other than the circus life." She puts out her cigarette. "Y'see, lots of people get buried in the ground when they die. You call that a grave. Heard that before?"

They both nod in unison. They've read about graves before, Jeremiah thinks. The concept sounds vaguely familiar.

"Well, a tombstone is what they place over a grave. It's like a...a name tag of sorts. So you know who was buried in that grave. Sometimes they add a little phrase or whatever to the name."

"Like what?", Jerome asks, eyes wide as he's hanging onto their mother's every word. He's visibly fascinated and Jeremiah knows exactly why.

"Somethin' you associate with the person", Lila continues and Jeremiah feels Jerome sit up a little straighter next to him. "Sometimes it's just a Bible quote. People wanna be remembered after their death, so they'll engrave all kinds of bullshit on their tombstone."

Being remembered after death. Being recognized. Making a name for yourself. Jerome has dreamed of that ever since they were little but he's never known _how_ to accomplish that. The idea of a tombstone must sound like a perfect opportunity to him." But if they're dead, how can they control what happens afterwards?", he asks and Jeremiah hears the small waver, the doubt. To Jerome, it sounds too good to be true. "How can they be sure their tombstone is gonna look the way they want it to?"

Lila rubs the back of her neck with a groan. She's even too exhausted to be annoyed by Jerome's questions. That's something that rarely happens. "They can't, I guess. But usually they'll tell a relative, someone they're close to and who'll respect their wishes. Sometimes someone just knows or guesses what the dead person would've wanted and then puts that on the stone."

Jeremiah's chest feels warm when Jerome leans a bit more into his space at that. "Would Uncle Zack know what you want on your tombstone?"

Lila snorts. "Whattaya think? He doesn't even know where his bed is half the time." She stretches, her bones popping. "'sides, I was kidding about the tombstone. Ain't gonna have one. Ya know what happens when someone dies 'round here. We don't get buried, we get burned."

Jeremiah suppresses a wince. The last people they burned were Cathy and her mom. Jerome reaches for his hand to calm him down, for all the wrong reasons. 

Lila doesn't notice the mood shift. She never notices the little things. Jeremiah is glad she doesn't. "Do me a favor." She pulls several loose dollar bills from her bra, making Jeremiah turn his face away in shame. "Go to the store and get Mommy some cigarettes, will ya?"

"They won't sell 'em to us, we're twelve", Jerome reminds her (like it matters) but Lila dismisses it with a curt shake of her head. "Ask for Antonio, he's a friend. And while you're at it, remind him he still owes me that bottle of Jack."

Jeremiah turns to look at Jerome, who shrugs and gets to his feet, taking the money Lila offered him. "'s it okay if I shower first?", he asks innocently, making Jeremiah smile. 

Lila has her eyes closed when she nods. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks, sweetie. Keep the change."

Jeremiah suppresses a snort. He's pretty sure they'll walk out of the store with the same amount of money they walked in with. They're only twelve but they've absolutely perfected their technique when it comes to stealing. It's one of the many benefits that comes with being twins.

One of them will distract the cashier by asking for directions or just chatting them up (it depends on how often they visited a store in whatever city they're currently staying in) while the other sneaks in to get whatever they need.

It's a strange phenomenon they've discovered by accident, but the concept of identical twins is something so foreign to some people that it's simply not the first conclusion they'll jump to. They'll see a bright, cheery, polite kid and _oh, what's that in the back? Was that -? No, impossible, he's standing right here, of course, let me show you on this map where to find the museum! _

It's weird and incredibly risky but that just makes it even more fun. Jerome is the more talented thief, however he's also the one that's better with people so when they go out together, it's usually Jeremiah who grabs whatever stuff they want. It makes his heart race and his hands shake but it's an incredible rush. The fear of getting caught had him freezing the first time they did it but now, he's almost addicted to it. It's a sharp contrast to his usual anxiety.

He follows his brother inside and into their room. "If we ever get the chance", Jerome says as he rummages through their wardrobe, "I want _mother of the year_ engraved on her tombstone."

Jeremiah sits down on their bed with a giggle. "How about: _as kind as she was sober_?'

Jerome cackles, pulling out one of the few matching outfits they have. He throws it on the bed before looking for the other one. "If I got a tombstone, it would say _Jerome Valeska: look behind you!"_

Jeremiah huffs out a chuckle while he inspects the outfit Jerome chose. Brown corduroy pants and a white linen shirt. Jeremiah actually really likes the shirt because it's so soft but the pants are absolutely horrible. Not just because they're ugly but they _itch._ "What?"

Jerome turns around with a grin. "Can you imagine people's faces?" He starts tugging his shirt over his head, prompting Jeremiah to look away with a blush. "It'd be fucking hilarious."

"But you wouldn't even get to see it", Jeremiah reminds him, starting to unbutton his own shirt. Undressing in the presence of his brother hasn't felt so awkward when they were younger. Jeremiah knows why and blushes even darker, hoping Jerome won't see. 

"So? I'd _know,_ and laugh my ass off alongside Satan."

Jeremiah slips out of his shirt, quickly reaching for the linen. "You're won't go to hell", he whispers, his stomach twisting a little at the thought. 

Jerome snorts. "I hope I will. Heaven oughtta be boring as fuck." He's already done with the outfit change. "Gonna leave my hair the way it is, just so I can fuck with yours." He grins and does just that as he steps forward, threading his fingers through Jeremiah's soft curls to make sure they look the same. "You'll go to heaven, probably. You're too sweet for hell."

He says it lightly, like it doesn't even matter but the comment makes Jeremiah flinch. Hard. He doesn't know what makes it worse. The thought of being separated from Jerome in the afterlife, or the fact that he thinks Jeremiah's going to go heaven if there is one.

<strike> _Where do manipulative little cowards end up, huh?_ </strike>

His breath hitches. His heart stops.

Cathy. That's _Cathy's_ voice.

But...she sounds different. Her voice used to be quiet and gentle, even in his nightmares of her. But in his head right now she sounded...mean. Not just mean but _vicious._

<strike> _Jerome is too good for hell. I was too good for hell. What about you? _ </strike>

"Hey, whoa. I was kidding..."

He feels arms around him and realizes that he's hiding his face in his hands. And he's crying. When did he start crying? 

Jerome is rubbing soothing circles on his back, voice a little uncertain. "Miah? I'm sorry, that was a stupid topic...you know we'll stay together forever."

<strike> _Will you?_ </strike>

Jeremiah curls his fingers in Jerome's shirt, tugging him closer, staining the soft linen with his tears. His palms are sweaty. "Promise?", he croaks, shaking, his own heartbeat drumming away within his own head. _Thump, Thump. Thump, thump. Thump, thump. _

Jerome sits down next to him, pulling Jeremiah in his lap. "Promise", he whispers, nuzzling Jeremiah's temple and pressing his lips to it. "Hey, what would you want on your tombstone?", he asks then, an obvious attempt to change the topic.

Jeremiah appreciates it. He inhales shakily, taking a second to listen inside his own head. He hears nothing.

Burying his face in Jerome's neck, relaxing at the familiar scent of chocolate, he whispers: _"Jeremiah Valeska: Jerome Valeska's twin brother."_

Jerome runs a hand through his hair. "But you're more than just my twin brother", he says, his tone of voice disapproving. "You're smart and kind and funny and cute and caring and patient and lotsa other things." _Stop it. You're wrong._ "Wouldn't you want people to know?"

Jeremiah shakes his head, not pulling away from Jerome's neck. "You're all that matters."

He feels Jerome's lips on top of his head. "Cutie. But I'm serious." Jerome puts his fingers under Jeremiah's chin and makes him look up. His expression is oddly stern. "Don't put yourself down like that. I don't like it."

Jeremiah's chest feels tight. "You put me on a pedestal sometimes, I don't like _that", _he whispers truthfully, more honest in this very moment than he'll ever be again.

Jerome frowns. "I have to, since you won't do it yourself."

He tilts his head. Jeremiah feels exposed, like his brother's gaze is tearing right through the walls he's put around his dishonest soul._ "Why_ don't you like yourself, Miah?"

Jeremiah flinches. "I don't know..."

<strike> _You do._ </strike>

_You're dead. Go away. _

"Do you like _me?",_ Jerome asks, prompting Jeremiah to frown. 

"That's the dumbest thing you've ever asked me."

"Just answer the question. Do you like me?"

Jeremiah presses his lips into a firm line. He can't bring himself to talk, so he just nods, wrapping his arms around Jerome's neck for emphasis.

Jerome leans into it, nose bumping against Jeremiah's. "We're twins. If you like me, you gotta like yourself."

<strike> _He doesn't know how rotten you are._ </strike>

"You're the better twin...", Jeremiah manages to say, more breath than sound, trying to turn his head away as he feels his eyes start to burn.

But Jerome is keeping a firm grip on his chin. "There's no better twin. And if there is, it's definitely not me."

<strike> _Rotten to the core, aren't you?_ </strike>

_Shut up._

<strike>_What would he think of you if he knew_? </strike>

Jerome is nuzzling him and Jeremiah can't _stand_ it. "I just really wish you'd see what I see...", he whispers, his voice so warm and honest that Jeremiah is certain something inside him breaks.

<strike> _What he sees is a lie. You're hiding the truth. You're always hiding._ </strike>

"Can we get a kitten instead of a puppy?", Jeremiah whispers, loud enough to drown out the cruel parody of Cathy's voice. 

Jerome blinks before laughing, throwing his head back while he does. Jeremiah loves that quirk. "Fuck yeah we can get a kitten. Won't Cayenne be jealous though?", he asks with a grin and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Jeremiah manages to almost smile. "He knows he's my number one."

Jerome's face falls at that, making Jeremiah's heart skip a beat. "Hey! What about me?"

"You're also my number one."

"Ya can't have two number ones, that's mathematically impossible!"

"Right, I forgot about your proficiency for mathematics."

"You lil' _shit!"_

Jerome pushes Jeremiah down on their bed and starts tickling him mercilessly. Jeremiah squeals and squirms, his chest unclenching at the familiarity of it all. Jerome is grinning down at him, his eyes sparkling like stars, looking at Jeremiah like he's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

<strike> _If only that were true, huh? _ </strike>

They do make it to the store eventually, their routine working flawlessly as it always does. The rest of their day goes by rather uneventfully but they enjoy every second they get to spend together. They don't often have a whole day for themselves, with Jerome forced to help out around the circus so much, alongside Uncle Zack especially.

Later, once they're laying in bed, Jerome is snoring softly, his arm draped around Jeremiah's waist from behind. Jeremiah is wide awake still, hugging Cayenne tightly, nosing at the fur on his head.

He can't stop thinking about Cathy.

He tries to reach her, to get her voice out, just so he can pretend that he's just making it up, but she stays silent. Jeremiah can feel her lurking though and he already knows that he's going to have the dream again tonight, the dream that's been haunting him for the last three years.

He does, but it's different this time. Before Cathy can ask him if it was worth it, Jeremiah realizes that he's grasping a knife.

He plunges it into her chest and she freezes, her sad eyes wide and confused. She sinks to the floor, screaming like she did when Taffy and Taboo ripped her apart. Jeremiah watches her flesh disappear, her beauty eaten away by toxic air as she falls apart.

Jeremiah can feel himself starting to smile. There's fingers intertwining with his and he's about to turn around to hug Jerome before his warm, loving voice whispers in his ear.

_"Murderer."_

Jeremiah shoots up, slick with sweat and crying. Jerome wakes up too, pulling Jeremiah down against his chest, holding him, kissing him, soothing him.

Inside his mind, Cathy is laughing. 

* * *

Jeremiah doesn't know why he suddenly can't get away from Cathy anymore. She's not always there, but she'll find Jeremiah when he's most vulnerable, mock him with her snide tone, telling him things he already knows but tries so hard to forget. 

He's still jealous of her. Crushingly, hopelessly jealous and it's _ridiculous_ because she's _dead_ and her body was _burned_, she's _gone. _And yet, she won't leave him alone. It's a cruel punishment.

One Jeremiah knows he deserves.

He tries to distract himself by the growing changes in his and Jerome's relationship. It works most of the time because Jerome just makes it so _easy_ to forget everything else around him.

His laugh lights Jeremiah's heart on fire, his touch makes butterflies flutter around in Jeremiah's stomach, his voice is like a melody and every word he says is like a song.

Watching him undress makes Jeremiah's stomach burn hot. Feeling the heat of his body against his own when they sleep makes his skin prickle.

Its getting so hard to pull away when their lips find each other. 

And it grows. Every day, it grows.

* * *

Then they turn fourteen.

* * *

They're sitting next to each other on the edge of their bed. Their gazes are cast downward but they are grasping each other's hand, one of the only forms of comfort they've ever known or needed. Jeremiah thinks his heart is going to break through his chest and his face feels uncomfortably hot.

The desire is all-consuming but despite that, they're afraid.

It's Jerome who proves once again that he's the brave one when he takes a deep breath. "If you don't like it", he whispers, "Just...shove me or somethin'. Immediately. Okay?" Jeremiah squeezes his hand in response. He doesn't think he's able to talk. His breath hitches when he feels fingers gently push his chin up.

Jerome's cheeks are flushed as well and his eyes are blown wide. They seem darker too and Jeremiah realizes that they're _hungry,_ his stomach twisting at the bluntness of his brother's expression.

It's frightening. It's _exciting._

Jerome's hand moves up, comes to rest on Jeremiah's cheek. They press their foreheads together, the familiar action calming them both down, their eyes closing. They've waited seven years for this. It's hard to believe it's real.

But it is. "Wait!"

Jeremiah suddenly remembers something and pulls away. Jerome blinks at him in confusion. "What's wrong?"

Jeremiah has jumped to his feet. He's reaching towards his side of the bed now, taking a hold of Cayenne's paw. He pulls him towards his chest, hugging him tightly before turning around. He opens the wardrobe door, sets Cayenne down carefully with an apologetic look and closes it again.

When he turns back to his brother, he's met by an incredulous look. "I don't want him to see", Jeremiah explains with a small gulp, twisting his fingers together, "He's still a baby..."

Jerome blinks. Once, twice, three times.

Then he starts laughing. Jeremiah blushes darkly, crossing his arms and casting his gaze downward in shame. "Stop it..."

"How old is he now? Ten? How much is that in cat years? Around seventy?"

Jerome is still laughing and Jeremiah winces in embarrassment. "Jerkface...", he whispers, shrinking even more into himself. 

The laughter dies down immediately.

The silence weighs heavily between them. Until -

"Miah." He hears Jerome gently pat the spot next to him. "C'mere."

His twin's tone of voice is warm and gentle and it melts Jeremiah's heart. He exhales slowly, keeping his arms crossed and his gaze down as he walks back, sitting down next to Jerome rather stiffly. He's stubborn, he knows he is, but he doesn't care.

It seems Jerome isn't the least bit surprised. "What, ya gonna make me work for it?", he huffs, his grin very much audible. "Okay then."

He starts with kissing Jeremiah's temple, making the younger twin close his eyes. Jerome's lips leave a trail down the side of his face, his hand coming up to rest on one of Jeremiah's arms. Jeremiah relaxes, turning his face more towards Jerome just a little so he can kiss the bridge of his nose, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth.

He lingers. Then he pulls away just a little, hovering only a hair's width above Jeremiah's lips. Their breaths mingle and it makes them shiver. Jeremiah finds himself clutching the front of Jerome's shirt. "Miah", the older twin whispers and there's something about the way he says it, raw and desperate and _fuck -!_

He wants to say something too, he wants to say Jerome's name but all he manages is a small, broken whine and it's _embarassing_ but then Jerome exhales harshly and surges forward, their lips smashing against each other and Jeremiah feels like he's falling.

Falling, surrounded by light, his chest warming him up from the inside out. 

They don't know what they're doing, what they're _supposed_ to be doing, so they just try doing what feels good and somehow, it works.

Not only does it work but it's _amazing._

Jerome runs his tongue over Jeremiah's bottom lip and he whines again, naturally opening his mouth when he does and Jerome takes it as an invitation, sliding his tongue inside and something within Jeremiah clenches and unclenches at the same time.

The older twin slides a hand in his hair, breaking the kiss for just a second. "Good thing Cayenne ain't seein' this."

Before Jeremiah can feel offended, Jerome's lips find his own again, parting them to slide his tongue back inside. It's warm. It's intimate. It's all he ever wanted. 

He tugs at Jerome's shirt, wanting him much, _much_ closer than he is and Jerome seems to share the sentiment because his fingers are digging into Jeremiah's hips, pulling him as close as possible.

<strike> _You could be closer._ </strike>

Jeremiah flinches and pulls away abruptly when Cathy's voice shoots through his mind. He's still clutching Jerome's shirt, not wanting the moment to be over yet but Cathy scared him by what she suggested. It scares him because he wants that, _fuck, does he want that. _

But what if Jerome doesn't? What if Jerome hated kissing Jeremiah like this?

He knows the thought is ridiculous, Jerome wouldn't have kissed him again after his stupid joke if that was the case. But still...

_ <strike>You know who it should've been. </strike> _

Jeremiah's blood runs cold. 

He feels his brother's fingers trembling as they still hold onto his waist. "Did...did I do something wrong?", he asks, obviously scared of the answer and Jeremiah can't help himself, he breathes out a laugh at the suggestion, Cathy immediately gone from his mind. "On the contrary", he confesses, letting himself fall forward, his forehead resting in the crook of his twin's neck. "I...I just...it's..."

<strike> _How would it feel, his naked body on top of yours as he presses you deep into the matress, parting your legs before he - _ </strike>

Jeremiah's breath hitches and he cuddles closer to his brother, which is counterproductive but it's the only way he knows how to feel safe. He doesn't know what to say, how to tell Jerome that he's wonderful and perfect and he _never_ wants to stop kissing him like this. It's frustrating to no end.

Jerome's arms wrap around him and Jeremiah feels him nuzzling his hair. "Okay, let _me_ start", he whispers, "If I'd known that _this_ is what we've been waiting for, I don't think I would've had that self control because fucking _hell,_ that was breathtaking in more ways than one."

Jeremiah inhales deeply in relief, nodding vigorously. "Yes, yes, _yes._ That", he whispers almost desperately and Jerome chuckles. "I love you so much", he whispers, kissing the top of Jeremiah's head.

Jeremiah nuzzles the older twin's neck. "I love you too. And I'm glad we're _adults_ now", he adds with a small smile, making Jerome snicker. "We were seven. We thought Mr. Cicero was at least three hundred years old", he says and this time, it's Jeremiah who snickers.

It's really comforting, having this kind of conversation with Jerome right now. "To be honest, he might have been", Jeremiah says and Jerome throws his head back with a laugh. 

"Miah! Didn't know ya had such a mean streak."

<strike> _There's a lot of things he doesn't know about you. _ </strike>

Jeremiah pushes Cathy's voice down. "I learned from the best", he murmurs, nuzzling his twin's neck, who cards his fingers through Jeremiah's hair.

"Are you calling me mean?"

"Maybe..."

"Y'know, just because we finally get to kiss for real, that doesn't mean I'm above tickling you."

Jeremiah chuckles and untangles himself from his twin, tilting his head cutely, knowing how much Jerome loves it. "I'd rather have you kiss me again", he whispers and Jerome raises an eyebrow, smirking.

"If you're trying to distract me from your tickle punishment...it's working."

With that, he leans forward and Jeremiah smiles when their lips meet again. The kiss is gentler this time, slower and not as desperate but just as amazing. Jeremiah sighs into it happily. This was definitely worth the seven-year-long wait.

<strike> _And was it worth turning him into a murderer?_ </strike>

Jeremiah squeezes his eyes shut tighter than necessary. 

<strike> _You can't keep running from what you did. _ </strike>

He tangles his hands in Jerome's fluffy hair, a pleasant tingle spreading over his skin as they deepen the kiss again. 

<strike>_He'll find out._ </strike>

Jerome's fingers sneak under Jeremiah's shirt, holding onto his hips, the skin against skin contact almost too much to bear. 

<strike>_He'll find out and then he'll leave you._ </strike>

Jeremiah moans into his brother's mouth for the first time and prompts Jerome to dig his nails into his flesh. It's possessive and beautiful.

<strike> _You don't deserve him_ </strike>

He doesn't. 

* * *

Two years later, on their sixteenth birthday, _kissing like adults_ has become a routine.

Jeremiah finds it quite amusing. He remembers how desperately he longed for their fourteenth birthday to arrive, he remembers the itch under his skin and the crippling jealousy.

It's almost surreal now, he thinks, closing his eyes, his lips parting as he lets out a soft moan when Jerome's lips leave a trail of kisses down his neck.

He twists a hand in his twin's hair, stopping him from going lower. "Don't you dare..!", he whines, a shiver running down his spine when Jerome giggles.

He does dare. Jeremiah arches his back when his brother's lips find his nipple, sucking on it, flicking his tongue against it, while playing with the other between two of his fingers." N-no fair..!"

Jerome just hums, the slight vibration only making matters worse. Jeremiah thinks it's embarrassing how sensitive he is, even though they've done this more often than he can count.

Jerome enjoys it thoroughly. He grazes his teeth over Jeremiah's nipple, making him twitch and whimper. "Jerome, s-stop _teasing..!" _

He gasps for air when Jerome releases his nipple. "Sorry, no can do." He brings his other hand up, using that instead of his mouth now and Jeremiah would very much like to _strangle him. _"You're so cute when you're desperate, baby brother..."

Jeremiah feels his face heat up and bites back another moan, gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles turn white. "Come on. Lemme hear ya", Jerome coos, pinching both of Jeremiah's nipples.

Jeremiah whines brokenly, arching his back again, wanting to be closer, closer, _they are never close enough. _They've come so far with each other, but they're still not close enough. But Jeremiah doesn't want to ask. He wouldn't know how to. And he's still not sure if Jerome even wants to.

<strike> _If it was someone else..._ </strike>

Jeremiah gasps, _her_ voice traveling from his mind through his entire body, ending as a frozen grip around his heart. "Jerome", he breathes out, desperately, "Jerome, I wanna taste you..!"

His brother sucks in a breath, leaning down immediately to nuzzle the side of his face. "Precious little Miah", he whispers, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple. "I'd be_ delighted."_

<strike> _A warm mouth, that's what you are. Do you think he would've waited this long if it was m-? _</strike>

Jeremiah absolutely _loves_ the feeling of Jerome's cock in his mouth. He loves how full it makes him feel, loves the taste, the warmth. _Jerome._

The older twin has a hand tangled in Jeremiah's hair, head thrown back as he moans deeply. "Fuck yeah, that's it. Take it, take it all the way, baby bro..!"

Jeremiah hums happily, taking his brother deeper, shivering when the hand in his hair grips. He swirls his tongue around the head, moaning when he tastes precum. He bobs his head a little faster but stops moving entirely when Jerome starts to take over.

He lets his brother fuck his mouth, holding still obediently. Jerome's free hand touches his face sweetly, quite the contrast to his harsh treatment of Jeremiah's mouth and throat.

<strike> _Whose face do you think he sees? _ </strike>

"Ya gonna...gonna swallow for me? Be my good boy?", Jerome asks in a raspy tone and Jeremiah _knows_ he close he is. All he can do is hum, hoping his brother gets the message, but he usually does. Besides, there's rarely an occasion where Jeremiah _doesn't_ swallow.

"Fuck...I love you..!", Jerome breathes out right before he comes. When he does, Jeremiah laps it up, shivering in pleasure at the salty taste of his brother filling his mouth.

<strike> _Does he really?_ </strike>

He does. _He does._

He feels Jerome's hand run through his hair. "Your turn."

* * *

Jeremiah whines brokenly, burying his face in Jerome's neck. He feels the vibrations of his chest as he chuckles, quickening the movement of his hand. He's in Jerome's lap, he's always in Jerome's lap when they do this, chest to chest because Jeremiah needs the closeness. Jerome is aware and its embarrassing that he is.

"Relax, strawberry brain. I gotcha", Jerome whispers in his ear and Jeremiah wants to melt right into him, he presses closer, wraps his arms around Jerome's neck.

<strike> _You can't ignore me forever._ </strike>

Jerome starts kissing his neck and shoulder, prompting Jeremiah to whimper and buck his hips, but Jerome's free hand digs into his thigh. "Stay still. Be my good boy." Jerome is so talkative, he always says these lewd, _wonderful_ things that turn Jeremiah to wax in his hands.

He moans, feeling it build, his arms around Jerome's neck tightening. "Je-Jero-ome..!", he whines, choking on a moan when Jerome twists his hand once.

Jerome hums with approval, nuzzling the side of Jeremiah's face. "Cum for big brother."

Jeremiah does so with a cry as he shudders, spilling his release between their stomachs and over Jerome's hand. Jerome presses kisses all over his face through it and Jeremiah thinks that makes him come even harder.

He slumps against Jerome, panting and shaking, his heartbeat gradually slowing down as Jerome holds him. He breathes out a chuckle right in Jeremiah's ear. "I'm sooo telling mom ~"

Jeremiah hits him lightly on the shoulder. Jerome's been making that joke ever since they first became more intimate and it hasn't been funny _once._ At least not to Jeremiah. Jerome finds it absolutely hilarious every time.

The older twin chuckles again. "Don't fall asleep yet, we gotta clean up", he whispers and Jeremiah groans in protest, tightening his hold around Jerome's neck. "Miaaah, you're the one who's gonna complain about feelin' gross in the morning."

That is true. "Just...just a bit...", he pleads softly and Jerome huffs, hugging him a little tighter.

"I'm just _way_ too good of a fuck", he whispers with a mock sigh. Jeremiah feels his cheeks heat up and his stomach tighten at the word choice.

<strike> _I wonder if you'll ever know._ </strike>

* * *

Jeremiah doesn't see it himself, but he's quite pretty. 

He figures he can't be _ugly,_ since he_ is_ Jerome's identical twin and Jerome is the most beautiful person he's ever seen. However, he doesn't understand what anyone, what _Jerome_ would see in him. And Cathy's voice inside his head doesn't help in that matter. 

When Jeremiah looks at himself, he sees his pale, freckled skin, his cheap, ugly glasses that are held together by several pieces of tape. He sees the bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, how thin he is because he has trouble eating sometimes. He's frail, especially in comparison to Jerome, who is broader and more muscular.

Jeremiah doesn't see what Jerome sees. Jerome sees his sparkling blue eyes, the soft cheeks, his heart-shaped lips, his slight curves. He might be skinnier than Jerome but he's softer overall, almost feminine but Jerome wouldn't _dare_ to tell him that.

Jeremiah is pretty. In fact, he's beautiful.

And much like they did with Jerome when they were children, people start to notice.

* * *

Jeremiah is on the couch, drawing, waiting for Jerome. He's late again and Jeremiah anxiously glances at the door, longing for it to open. No matter how old they get, being without Jerome always makes him nervous, especially since he has nothing to distract himself from Cathy with. But fortunately, she's been laying low the last few days. Jeremiah doesn't know why but he doesn't dare to question it. He'd rather just enjoy the almost-peace of mind. 

When the trailer door bursts open, Jeremiah jumps a little, looking up hopefully. But his chest deflates immediately when Lila stumbles inside, giggling like a school girl. "Ain't you a charmer", she coos and it's then that Jeremiah's gaze falls on the large, close-to-bald man following suit, grinning crookedly.

Jeremiah scrunches his nose. Lila turns her head, her face falling a little when she sees him. "Uh oooh". He gets grabbed by his arm and pulled off the couch. "Go to your room, baby. Mommy needs the couch", she slurs, the words dissolving into another fit of giggles when the gorilla of the night pushes her down on said couch and slips between her legs, pressing sloppy kisses to her neck.

Jeremiah is stunned for a second, clutching his sketchbook to his chest. But when the piercing gaze of the man meets his while still attacking Lila's neck, the sixteen-year-old retreats to his and Jerome's room, his heart beating hard and fast, scrambling to his side of the bed.

Cayenne is waiting for him on his pillow and Jeremiah grabs him, hugging the stuffed cat close to his chest, his heartbeat starting to slow down then when he buries his face in the fur of Cayenne's head. He feels the man's eyes on him still and fights the urge to vomit, blindly reaching for their CD player and the ear phones. He hopes Jerome stays out long enough for those two to finish.

The men Lila brings home definitely aren't the ones you'd introduce to your parents. They're much older than her most of the time, overweight and sweaty, with reddened cheeks and yellow teeth. Jeremiah shudders. He doesn't understand why Lila sells herself short like that. She's pretty, definitely too pretty for the likes of these apes.

"Beggars can't be choosers", Jerome said once, after Lila threw them out for another evening, a short, hobbit-looking man ogling her breasts from where she seated him on the couch. "Our mother dearest is a horny slut in desperate need of cash for booze. Don't think about it. You'll make yourself sick."

Jeremiah puts his sketchbook down with a frustrated sigh. Pulling the ear phones out, he listens closely for any noise outside of their room but is met with blissful silence. Lila seems to be done. 

Jeremiah can't shake the feeling off that the man's gaze was on him for a reason. He shudders and his stomach churns. He misses Jerome. His heart and soul ache for his brother's arms around him, protecting him from the world out there, the people that only exist to hurt them.

<strike> _Pathetic. You're pathetic. He'd be better of with - _ </strike>

Ah, there she is. Jeremiah shakes his head and ignores the small sting of his heart. He needs to go outside for a bit or he'll go insane.

He pulls out Cayenne from where he was tucked under his arm, gently putting the cat on his pillow. He gets up and opens the door to the living area, expecting to find it empty.

He freezes and feels an unpleasant shiver run down his spine. Lila's lover of the night is lounging on the couch in his underwear only, legs spread wide and a cigarette between his lips. Jeremiah can smell the wodka from where he's standing and feels the nausea creep up again.

He needs to get out of here _right now,_ before he pukes his guts out all over the floor.

Jeremiah closes the door behind him as silently as possible but the man hears it. He turns his head and blinks drowsily. His eyes clear when he seems to recognize Jeremiah and his face splits into a grin.

Crooked. Terrifying. "Well, hello", he rumbles in a tone Jeremiah _knows_ is meant to be seductive. He wants to retreat back to their room but the door doesn't have a lock. He'd be trapped. He just needs to make it to the front door.

"H-hello", Jeremiah forces himself to say, his voice meek and shaky. It makes the man lick his lips and Jeremiah's skin crawls at the thought of what it implies. "Where is mom?", he asks then, realizing that Lila is not passed out next to him like she would be. Not that he'd care normally but right now, he really hopes his mother is nearby. 

The man doesn't take his eyes off of Jeremiah when reaching for the wodka bottle on the small table. "Gettin' more booze." He takes several gulps of the liquid and hisses blissfully at the burn. "Sorry, didn't catch yer name there before, kid."

Jeremiah doesn't want to tell him. But what choice does he have? He needs to keep the man distracted while inching towards the door. "Jeremiah", he says, forcing a small, polite smile. It hurts the nerves in his face. 

The man puts the bottle down and his cigarette in the ashtray. "Charlie. Jeremiah, huh? Rare name." He stands up and Jeremiah's heart stops. Charlie literally _is_ a gorilla. Tall and massive, body covered in thick, black hair. His face is an unhealthy red color from too much alcohol and his eyes are dark and dull.

_Jerome,_ Jeremiah finds himself think, _Jerome, please help me._

Charlie approaches and Jeremiah forgets all about subtlety. He uses his frail physique to his advantage and darts past Charlie, almost at the door. "Hey, hey, hey, whoa!" 

There's a grip in Jeremiah's hair and his body tenses up. He feels his back slam against the closed door of their room and Charlie's hand wraps around his throat, not squeezing but holding him in place. "Where ya goin', pretty boy?"

Jeremiah feels his eyes prickle with tears and he squeezes them shut, trying to sink as deep into the door as possible. But Charlie presses close, his stubble rubbing over Jeremiah's cheek. It hurts.

Charlie's breath is at his ear, hot and fowl smelling. "Yer more gorgeous than yer Mommy, y'know that?", he hisses, licking a trail from Jeremiah's neck up to his ear, making him flinch in disgust. He pushes at Charlie's chest but the large man doesn't budge. _Jerome,_ he screams inside his head,_ I want Jerome, Jerome, JEROME._

Charlie's knee is pressing between his legs now and Jeremiah feels disgusting, he wants to rip his own skin off and then Charlie's. He sees blood and hears screaming and he wants it, _wants wants wants wants it, wants to hurt, wants to destroy, wants to kill, he's done it before, he wants Charlie to die like Cathy died. _

"How old are ya? Fifteen? Sixteen at the most?", Charlie asks him then and what he's implying is so vile, it makes Jeremiah hope that hell exists just so he can be sure that is where Charlie will end up. "Bet'cha still a virgin. Bet that tight little ass of yours ain't never seen a cock before, eh?"

Charlie's free hand slides under Jeremiah's button-up, making him twitch. He wants away from the touch, away from those thick, rough fingers. "So smooth", Charlie purrs in his ear and Jeremiah wants to turn his head away, but the grip around his throat prevents him from it. "Want me to take care of ya, huh? Make a _man_ outta ya?" 

Charlie's hand slides into the back of Jeremiah's pants, gripping at his ass. Jeremiah is sobbing now, he doesn't want to, he wants to punch and kick and _kill_ but all he can do is cry. _Please, please, make it stop, I don't want this, please!_

_Save me, Jerome!_

He hears a soaring noise and then Charlie grunts. His grip on Jeremiah disappears so suddenly that his eyes snap open.

Charlie is on the floor, clutching his head between his hands and moaning like a dying pig. Jeremiah gasps when suddenly, the disgusted, painful twist of his stomach is replaced by a very familiar, warm tingle and he already knows why before looking up.

Jerome is still holding the chair in his hands he used to whack Charlie over the head with. His chest is heaving and his face is hard. He's smiling but it's not a happy smile. It's a frozen one, matching his soulless gaze. He glances at Jeremiah quickly, needs confirmation that he's okay before looking back at Charlie. "Knock knock!", he sings, taking a swing and smashing the chair into the wall so it breaks. He grasps one of the chair legs tightly before swiftly moving to straddle Charlie on the floor. "Who's there, ya ask?"

Charlie doesn't answer, he's too drunk and his head probably feels like it's bursting. Jerome throws the chair leg in the air so it spins a few times and catches it again gracefully. "Ski!"

He rams the makeshift peg in Charlie's throat. The man makes a gurgling sound and blood gushes from the wound. He squirms like a worm, his hands clawing at Jerome's desperately, to no avail. Jeremiah can't stop watching.

It's beautiful. It's not comparable to Cathy's death. Jerome was the cause of it but he didn't physically hurt her, the tigers ripped her apart. He wasn't directly involved.

This, Jerome is _doing_ this. It's Jerome's hand around the peg, Jerome's fingers dripping with blood. This is Jerome killing someone. Killing someone for Jeremiah.

Its breathtaking. It shouldn't be. But Jeremiah is absolutely in awe.

Jerome cackles, twisting the peg with visible delight. "Ski who?" He rips it out before plunging it down again. It's unnecessary, Charlie is definitely going to drown in his own blood in a matter of moments. But this isn't about necessity, or simple pleasure.

This is personal.

Jerome leans down, putting his full weight on the peg. "Don't fucking touch my bro_ski",_ he hisses in Charlie's ear and it's an absolutely ridiculous joke, it barely even qualifies as such. Jerome is smarter than that.

But Jeremiah finds he doesn't care when Jerome proceeds to pull the peg out and ram it in Charlie's throat again and again. He keeps doing it even when Charlie has long stopped moving, until his head is almost completely severed from his shoulders.

Jerome let's the peg drop to the floor and wipes the sweat from his forehead with his bloody hand. "Whew!" He giggles and climbs off of the lifeless body, turning around to face Jeremiah. He's grinning brightly, his face smeared with blood, dark drops falling from his fingertips. "He's gonna remember that. Wherever he is now."

Jeremiah exhales slowly, his body starting to shake. He looks at Charlie's body on the floor, his chest swelling but his muscles still tense from fear. He darts forward and throws himself against Jerome's chest. The older twin expected this, of course he did. He wraps his arms around the trembling Jeremiah, surrounding him with warmth, love. Protecting him, always protecting him.

Jeremiah buries his face in Jerome's neck, he smells sweat and blood, but stronger than all of it is the scent of chocolate.

He sobs into Jerome's neck, tightening his grip when he feels the press of lips against his temple. "He's gone now", Jerome whispers and it's an absurd thing to say because Jeremiah knows already, he saw it happen before his very eyes.

Then why does the confirmation out of Jerome's mouth make his muscles relax?

The older twin is pressing kisses everywhere he can reach now. The space is limited since Jeremiah's face is still buried in his neck, so Jerome settles for his hair, his ear, the side of his face, his neck, his shoulder. "I told ya, Miah", he whispers, one hand sliding up Jeremiah's back and into his hair, combing through it. "I'll never let _anyone_ hurt you again."

They're standing next to the tiger cage again, Cathy's screams fading while they're holding each other and Jerome is promising that exact same thing, assuring Jeremiah that: _"I take care of what's mine. You're mine, Miah."_

He is Jerome's.

But he finally wants to be _made_ Jerome's. 

Jeremiah pulls away from his brother's neck and cups his bloody cheeks with his hands before kissing him. He tastes copper and it should be disgusting but _Jerome_ spilled that blood, he spilled it for Jeremiah and _fuck -_

Jerome kisses back, his grip around Jeremiah's waist tightening, their hips making contact. Jeremiah moans against his twin's mouth, his body tingling all over. He wants more. More, _right now._

He blindly stumbles backwards, pulling Jerome with him as they somehow manage to step over Charlie's mutilated body without tripping. Jeremiah's back connects with the wall. Jerome's hands are warm and sticky as they run over his body under his shirt. It's not enough.

Jeremiah breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead to Jerome's. "Take me", he pants, without fear, without doubt, his heart swelling with delight when his words prompt Jerome to dig his nails in the soft flesh of his belly. "Please, Jerome, please, please, please, I want you so _bad -!" _

* * *

_ **Every move you make** _

_ **Every vow you break** _

_ **Every smile you fake** _

_ **Every claim you stake** _

_ **I'll be watching you** _

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I. Am. EVIL. I know. But it was getting so long, I had to stop SOMEWHERE. Please don't hate me. I promise I'll update soon! Hope y'all stay tuned ~


End file.
